


a priori

by subcas



Series: incipit [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fallen Angel Castiel, Gen, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, Incomplete, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:34:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subcas/pseuds/subcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything fell apart over one small laminated card. It was Cas’s driver’s license, newly forged by a seedy accomplice. At first glance it was perfectly average, one picture of Cas, squinting into the camera in front of an ugly generic background, his scrawled signature, and the little heart that proclaimed him a organ donor. It was at second glance, however, that Dean had noticed it.</p>
<p>Or an AU where Bobby’s still alive, Cas falls, and misunderstandings ensue between him and Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a priori

**Author's Note:**

> INCOMPLETE
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> 
> i posted [a snippet of this](http://sextmen.tumblr.com/post/56085824835/snippet-of-a-au-fic-where-bobbys-still-alive-cas) on tumblr a while ago. here's a little more of it.
> 
> _a priori_ literally means _from the former_ in latin. in the terms of a debate it's used to indicate an argument that is based off of a hypothesis, not empirical evidence. more loosely it means something which is self-evident.
> 
> however, our selves are prone to mistakes, aren't they?

Everything fell apart over one small laminated card. It was Cas’s driver’s license, newly forged by a seedy accomplice. At first glance it was perfectly average, one picture of Cas, squinting into the camera in front of an ugly generic background, his scrawled signature, and the little heart that proclaimed him a organ donor. It was at second glance, however, that Dean had noticed it.

He rubbed his thumb over the offending word like he could erase the ink below. “Castiel _Singer_?”

Cas shifted his body weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, reflexively defensive towards the anger he didn’t understand pouring from Dean.

“I asked Bobby’s permission,” He growled, eyes darting to Dean’s face and then the card.

“No, Cas... I always thought, if you ever needed to, you’d be a Winchester. You’re like my brother, man.”

The words were meant to comfort, falling softly from Dean’s tentative lips, the reassurance of family. Instead they ripped, burning, into Castiel, tearing wounds open wide until he was holding himself in, arms crossed across his chest.

The pain made him abruptly honest. “I don’t want to be your _brother_.” It flew from his mouth without his permission, these syllables, jutting consonants and rounded vowels, hanging in the empty space that separated their bodies, so solid between them Castiel imagined he could pluck them from the air and place them back in his mouth, chew and swallow until the bitter truth only resided sour in his stomach, churning slowly, indigestible.

Suddenly Dean seemed impossibly far away, only a handbreadth, he could reach out and lay his fingers on his cheek, but made untouchable by the jagged hole that had fallen open between their feet. The warm shared space, the _us_ , pierced by Cas’s tongue, deflated like a injured balloon, leaving stillness and gaping distance in the aftermath.

When Dean turned away, scraping a hand across his jaw, Cas knew that he had, once again, broken something that could not be fixed.

“I-I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, “I didn’t mean...”

He trailed off and did not start again. Although he wished he had guarded his tongue more strictly, it wasn’t true that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to tell Dean it, he didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, and he didn’t know how to say any of that.

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for,” Dean said, gruffly. His face was stilled turned away from Cas’s, his hand shadowing his features.

Dean was a good liar, a much better liar than Cas, but even he could tell that this wasn’t the truth. The whole room seemed cold, in that strangely human way. Even as an angel he had learnt, there was more things than a thermometer could measure that changed the temperature of a room. As with many things, it only mattered when it was Dean.

“I’m making lunch,” Dean said, “You want anything?”

Cas shook his head silently.

“Alright.”

He held out the card between his thumb and index finger, pinched at the very edge so Cas could take it without brushing his hand, then turned and walked away.

Cas stood there, holding the innocuous rectangle of plastic and wishing he could still travel in time.

*

Sam was sitting in the kitchen, a tome which might quell the appetite of the average reader propped up on a stack of other books so he could read and eat at the same time, trying not to drip salad dressing on anything too priceless, when Dean walked in.

A stormcloud followed him, thankfully metaphorically because most of these books weren’t supposed to be exposed to moisture, as he threw open the refrigerator door and started rustling around inside.

“Hey,” Sam threw out, testing the waters.

Dean grunted.

Non-verbal communication was never a good sign.

“Where’s Cas?” 

It wouldn't be fair to say that Cas was _always_ with Dean but, even if he didn’t exactly follow him around 24/7, it was usually a good bet that he was in his general vicinity, at least, like a highly specialized form of echolocation.

Dean grunted again, pulling out a tomato and slicing into it with an unnecessary vigor, before doing the same to a perfectly innocent head of romaine. “How should I know?”

“Uh...” Sam said, genius that he was. For one thing, either Dean was possessed by an unusually health-conscious demon who’d be undone by his hungering for salad or he was about to pull out the thick-cut bacon as the last ingredient to his lunch. Cas loved BLTs. Dean + BLTs, two of his favorite things, but no sign of the man himself? So, he’d fought with Cas, even better.

Figuring he should try, even if all previous evidence pointed towards failure, Sam asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Hunky-fucking-Dory,” Dean said, slamming a pan onto the stovetop in a way which communicated how effective the potential for weaponizing cast iron cookware could be in the hands of someone who killed things for a living.

Sam decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and also safety, and kept his mouth shut, even as he noticed Dean unconsciously preparing the meal for two, realize what he was doing and stare at the extra bacon woundedly, before he stuffed it into his own sandwich and ate the whole thing with single minded determination.

*

It would be better if they’d fought. That was ground they’d tread a hundred times before. Anger would be far more palatable than the way Dean’s casual touches disappeared and the way Cas slunk out of rooms guiltily. The air around them condensed like a storm about to break, a muggy unbearable swelter. Neither of them would speak to it. Both insisted that nothing was the matter. In fact, seemingly the only thing they were in agreement on was that nothing at all had happened and everything was fine.

This, of course, was irrefutable proof that something had _definitely_ happened in the eyes of Bobby and Sam. 

Clearly, everything was not fine.

It became even clearer when Sam came to knock on Cas’s slightly ajar bedroom door for dinner and saw him kicking a half-full duffel bag under the bed. Cas pressed his lips into a bloodless line and did him the courtesy of not trying to pretend it wasn’t what it looked like.

“I think it would be best,” he said, “for me to leave.”

Even in the wake of the brewing mire of discomfort that hung in the house, Sam was stunned. “Cas,” he trailed off. “Whatever Dean did—”

“Dean didn’t do anything,” Cas snapped, uncharacteristically sharp.

“Okay, okay.” Sam held up a pacifying hand, “Whatever happened, you don’t have to tell me, it’ll pass. You’re our friend, man. Not just Dean’s, mine and Bobby’s. This is your place too, you don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I... appreciate that, Sam. But no one is making me do this. I think it will be easier, for me and for everyone else, if I take some time for myself. For now.”

**Author's Note:**

> a somewhat facetious summary of the summary of the rest of the story that i put in the original tumblr tags:
> 
> basically cas is admitting his love—that he wants to be dean's _lover_ , not his brother. when dean turns away he assumes that he's fucked everything up by admitting he has romantic feelings for dean. whereas dean thinks that cas is saying he doesn't want to be a part of dean's family. they’re both basically projecting their guilty feelings (cas thinking he’s taking advantage of their friendship when he’s actually in love with dean. dean thinking that he’s the reason that cas is fallen and human) onto each other. 
> 
> so cas leaves to go off hunting on his own since he’s sad and can’t handle being around dean. sam and bobby are just like these idjits. this goes on for a while until eventually then they run into each other on a hunt that goes sideways. dean is injured badly and cas goes nuts and kills everyone before he freaks out and professes his love and dean is all 'wha-huh?' and passes out from blood loss. when he wakes up cas tells him, 'i'll go i know you don't want to hear about it.' and dean has no idea what he's talking about. so cas is like, 'i know my being in love with you makes you uncomfortable' and dean's all YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH ME WHAT. cas is like uhhhhh yeah i told you already. dean goes NO YOU DIDN'T TELL ME AGAIN and they work it out and bang 
> 
> then cas becomes a winchester when he and dean get married, obviously.


End file.
